


The Last to Know

by cobaltmoony, sparkly_butthole



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky's Goats - Freeform, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, No Angst, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Somehow, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 10:59:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17000286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobaltmoony/pseuds/cobaltmoony, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/pseuds/sparkly_butthole
Summary: It takes a hundred years, but Bucky finally puts the pieces together.





	The Last to Know

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fannishlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishlove/gifts).



> Moony : SURPRISE SHINJ!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! hope you like this art and i'm pretty sure you'll like the story too cause sparkly_butthole did a AWESOME JOB and i'm in awe! And thank you for always be there supporting me and my art, and talk me out of art blocks and all the cheerleading (and enabling haha) <3333
> 
> A/N: I was so happy moony asked me to do this for your birthday! I somehow managed full fluff with zero angst. I think it's a fluke. Now no one will believe me when I tell them I'm the angst gremlin. ;) I hope you love this as much as we love you.
> 
> Thanks as always to [NurseDarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NurseDarry) for the beta. ALL HAIL!

 

 

Bucky stretches out in the grass, shading his face with his remaining hand. The red-orange glow of the Wakandan sun shines down on him like a benediction. A level of anticipation he’d never known feeds the hungry butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

 

Steve’s coming home today.

 

The goats bleat their complaints in the background as Bucky smiles, a wide, free thing that hasn’t graced his face in an age, save one moment two weeks ago that still has him incredulous with joy.

 

Seven decades ago, when the Nazis had taken him, had broken him into tiny pieces by showing him the newspaper clipping of Captain America’s death, he thought he’d never smile again. If there was one thing Bucky regretted after the fall, it was that he’d never told Steve how important he was to Bucky. Any such opportunity had been ripped from him just like his arm had, brutally and painfully.

 

And then, against all odds, he had his chance.

 

_Steve approaches him on the couch in one of T’Challa’s opulent sitting rooms overlooking the market full of homemade goods and crafts stretching out before him. T’Challa had convinced Bucky to take some time away from the farm, worried Bucky would end up working himself to the bone. Bucky had tried to argue that James Buchanan Barnes never took a handout once in his life, and wasn’t about to start now, but the king would have none of that and had ordered him to the palace for some R &R. _

 

_Bucky hadn’t had the heart to explain that hard work kept his mind away from the bad thoughts, the memories that still haunted his nightmares, though his waking thoughts were cleaner, clearer now. And he’d been working his whole life, wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he just sat on his ass._

 

_Yet here he is, watching his best pal walk toward him wearing an unusually tense expression. Briefly, Bucky wonders if something is happening with the Accords or with Stark, but if that had been the case, he’d have been told by now and not like this. So if it isn’t that, why are Steve’s panties in a bunch?_

 

_“Hey, Steve.”_

 

_“Hey, pal.” Instead of sitting next to him and putting his feet up, Steve starts wearing a path in T’Challa’s plush patterned carpet with his pacing. “I was wondering if you’d, ah, like to join me for dinner on the terrace tonight.”_

 

_“The one overlooking the waterfall?”_

 

_“Yes.”_

 

_“The really nice one overlooking the waterfall?” Bucky had said, trying to emphasize his point. “The one where T’Challa hosts dignitaries and ambassadors? The one where he takes Nakia on dates?”_

 

_For some reason, Steve’s face turns bright red at the mention of dates. “Yes, Bucky, that terrace.”_

 

_“Is this a prank?” Bucky asks while scratching his head._

 

_Steve’s long-suffering sigh could probably be heard by his goats. “Are you coming to dinner or not.”_

 

_“I… yeah. Of course I wouldn’t pass up this opportunity. Should I call Shuri? I’m sure she’d like to come and ‘make fun of the white boys.’ And I assume you’ve already invited birdbrain?” Bucky makes a half-serious, half-joking face; he still isn’t sure if he likes Sam or not, but the man did uproot his whole life just for Bucky’s sake. For Steve’s sake, really, which is more important._

 

_“Uh, actually…” Steve trails off, once more flushed from collar to hairline and now rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously. “I was thinking it could be just me and you.”_

 

_“Oh.”_

 

_Bucky only means to express surprise with his response, but an oddly panicked look takes up residence on Steve’s face. Now, Bucky understands that it had been rejection, Steve having thought that Bucky was turning him down. That Bucky could somehow read his mind and was coming up with a way to let Steve down easy._

 

_Typical Steve, jumping to conclusions._

 

_“That would be nice. I guess we really don’t get enough time together, do we? Time to reminisce. Since you’re so busy being Captain America… still.”_

 

_“I’m not Captain America anymore,” Steve denies reflexively._

 

_“Potato, potahtoe. You’ve never been anything else, Rogers, even before the shield, and you damn well know it.”_

 

_He takes the sting out of his words by smiling gently at his best friend, feeling a bit like the Bucky Barnes of old. Steve’s answering smile lights up the room like the sun._

 

_“Okay, then. Whatever you say, old man.”_

 

_Bucky splutters indignantly, but Steve verifies their meeting at eight o’clock before practically bouncing out of the room._

 

_“Sounds good,” Bucky whispers to the empty room, smile turning wistful. Steve had always had to have the last word. Truly nothing had changed. His amusement lasts all the way to dinner._

 

The best thing about remembering Bucky Barnes piece-by-piece is that he also gets to rediscover Steve Rogers the same way. His memories are little snowflakes, snatches of time preserved in crystal, reflected through light and seen like new through Bucky’s eyes.

 

Parsing through them now fuels more fire to the anticipation. They’ve both changed significantly, there’s no denying that, but the core of what makes them who they are hasn’t, and that’s a key distinction for Bucky. Steve is the light that makes the snowflakes shine, that lets them fall together into a coherent picture, a shape, a color. Without him, Bucky isn’t sure he could’ve trusted that the core of him is still there.

 

Some things, though… some things are new, such as a certain captain’s newfound courage when it comes to matters of the heart.

 

_Steve confusing the shit out of Bucky is nothing new, but this particular reason doesn’t become clear until dinner. They sit on the terrace, which had been decorated with about a thousand different kinds of flower along with some of the most ornate latticework Bucky had ever seen - and he’d been a lot of places - when Steve finally reveals his reason for asking Bucky on what is, essentially, a date._

 

_They’ve been chatting about the old days, Steve occasionally forgetting his nervousness in favor of delighted laughter over Bucky’s memories and the fact that he even has them. His brain had been scrambled pretty hard, the doctors had told them both, and Bucky had been lucky to have gotten any of it back, let alone as much as he had. That’s a cause for celebration all in itself._

 

_But eventually Steve gets to the point, turning Bucky’s world upside down in one fell swoop._

 

_Steve swallows and looks to the side as though studying the verdant forests and rolling hills of Wakanda, the rush of the waterfall, the jet black of the panther signifying Wakanda’s wealth and status. Anything but Bucky, which only serves to make him more curious._

 

_Whatever Steve has to say, it must be serious business._

 

_“You can spit it out, Stevie,” he murmurs, the old nickname falling from his tongue effortlessly. “Nothing you say could possibly change… whatever it is you’re afraid of changing.”_

 

_Steve’s eyes close then, and he inhales for what feels like a year before speaking._

 

_“I don’t know any other way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it. The truth is, Bucky… the truth is that I love you.” He whispers it, though it seems to take every ounce of willpower he has to do so. He opens those sky blue eyes but still avoids looking at Bucky. “I just… there aren’t any other words. Even those are not enough.”_

 

_Finally, Steve works up the courage to meet Bucky’s eyes, Bucky who is nearly bowled over with incredulity. He tries to speak, to let out even a squeak, but Steve’s right - there are no words that can encompass all that he feels in that moment. The anticipation, the fear… the unexpected heat that has settled at the base of his spine. The relief that comes from finally having this thing between them named._

 

_After a few moments, Steve’s face wears that odd, worried expression again. “Well? Say something. Say anything, even if it’s to tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again.”_

 

_And because Bucky’s never been good with words, he lets actions do the talking. He stands up, pulls Steve from his chair, and brings their lips together in a manner that has Steve mewling and leaving them both breathless when it’s done._

 

_“I love you too, idiot. How could you have been nervous about that?”_

 

_Steve pulls back from his embrace and gives him the hairy eyeball. “So why didn’t you say anything, Mr. Wise Guy?”_

 

_It’s Bucky’s turn to feel sheepish. “Because… because I hadn’t realized it until now,” he mutters lowly, mostly to himself, but forgetting that Steve has super hearing._

 

_“Uh-huh,” Steve says with a grin, “that’s what I thought. Now kiss me again before I die of old age.”_

 

_Bucky pulls away just as Steve moves in close again, offended. “You know I’m older than you, right?”_

 

_“Shut up,” Steve murmurs against his lips. Bucky shakes his head minutely, mutters “punk,” and loses himself in the press of soft lips against his._

 

God, what a night that had been. He’d followed Steve back to his suite, enchanted by the flush of Steve’s skin, from both embarrassment and arousal. They’d stolen glances at each other, little peeks that each pretended hadn’t happened. Bucky had fallen asleep in Steve’s arms, wearing a pair of Steve’s pajamas since his belongings were still in his own room. Neither had been able to sleep much, excited as they were, but neither had cared, either. Every second together felt so easy, and Bucky sure as hell didn’t want to miss a single one. It was the most comfortable silence Bucky’s felt since before the war, back when Steve would doodle and Bucky would watch him work.

 

Now that he thinks on it, he realizes how blind he must’ve been - both of them, really - not to have seen the signs well before now. Their closeness had always been legendary, their friendship more like a brotherhood, but it had gone beyond that. It seems like they were the only ones who _hadn’t_ seen it.

It doesn’t take long for Bucky to come up with an example. Nancy and Greta were best friends, seemingly as close as he and Steve. Greta had actually taken a shine to Steve, which had caused a resigned sense of jealousy in Bucky, even though he knew that someday they’d have to go on with their lives. A dame would see what Bucky saw in Steve, and the two of them would get married, buy a house, and have babies. It’s what people did back then. A part of him had even been happy for Steve.

 

They’d gone to see a show. Bucky’s shit memory can’t remember what the hell it was, but he can smell the popcorn, remember the lights turning down and the excitement of finally having enough money for a night out.

 

_Bucky and Steve sit next to each other, with the girls on the outside. Halfway through the movie, during which he and Steve had been whispering and making wisecracks, the girls share a significant look that Bucky only half-catches. Greta takes Steve’s hand then, leans in to kiss his cheek, and says “Goodbye, Steve. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”_

 

_Then she smiles at Bucky, winks, and walks out with her best friend, giggling the whole way. Steve wears the same confused expression he does, Bucky’s pretty sure, but the movie had moved on, and the two of them quickly follow._

 

If Nancy and Greta had figured it out, how much of the old neighborhood knew? They’d lived just down the block from the queer neighborhood on account of the cost. Had _literally everyone_ put two and two together while Bucky and Steve were too busy learning to read and ignoring the math?

 

And now that he thinks about it, _holy shit,_ the guys had known as well.

 

_It’s their first leave in weeks, and the first time in months they’ve had access to hot water. The Commandos enjoy their showers and take their leave one at a time, leaving Bucky and Steve behind. They luxuriate in the heat and the feeling of being clean, soaping up and chit-chatting freely like they hadn’t had a chance to do in a long time. The war’s been wearing them down to the bone, and they’re not gonna miss out on this opportunity to refresh themselves._

 

_Steve tells him a joke that has Bucky cracking up, nearly rolling on the floor laughing for several minutes, and beams at him while he shuts off the water and hands Bucky his towel._

 

_The chilly fall air feels refreshing for once as they step out of the showers, Bucky still snickering. Just outside the complex, they’re accosted by Falsworth, Dugan, and Frenchie._

 

_“So,” Dum-Dum says without preamble, “did you enjoy your showers, boys?” He winks at the two of them._

 

_Bucky gives Steve a bemused look before turning back to his teammate. “Uh, yes?”_

 

_“Didn’t you guys?” Steve asks._

 

_“Well yeah, but not as much as you two, amirite?” Dugan continues, much to Bucky’s confusion. Dernier sputters, trying to hold in his laughter._

 

_“I guess?” Steve says, mystified._

 

_Dugan’s face falls. “You mean to tell me… you and Barnes weren’t… well?”_

 

_Falsworth squeezes Dugan’s shoulder. “Pay up, my friend.”_

 

_“Thought they’d have figured it out by now,” Dugan mutters, walking off with the Englishman gleefully holding out an open palm. Dernier salutes, winks, and follows them, leaving Bucky and Steve scratching their heads._

 

The evening air is filled with Bucky’s laughter as he finally realizes what the hell that’d actually been about. He tightens his core and sits up, absentmindedly picking at a strand of grass. They’d both been completely oblivious, a couple of mooks without the sense God gave a clam. Young and innocent, despite the war. Neither of them had really understood how bad things could be. And maybe it would’ve been better that way - if Steve had married Peggy, if Bucky had found a nice girl, or maybe died in the war - but they wouldn’t have found each other like this. This feels more like a silver cloud than a silver lining.

 

The thing - the _important_ thing - is that they both made it to the other side in one piece. Well, mostly one piece, considering one of them has about eighty-five percent of his original parts.

 

Bucky sighs and smiles, a little soft, a lot self-deprecating. His anticipation has mellowed some, turning from a blazing red in his gut to a softly-burnished gold that suffuses his body, making him tremble with joy.

 

Lost in thought as he is, Bucky is surprised when his favorite baby goat pushes its forehead into his hand like a cat begging for pets. He grins, twisting to butt the goat right back.

 

“Hey, Jelly Bean. A little pushy today, aren’t we?”

 

A soft laugh sounds behind him.

 

“You named your goat Jelly Bean?” .

 

Steve’s amused voice lights Bucky up from the inside out, but instead of showing it, he affects faux-annoyance, falling easily into their style of banter. “Shut up, Steve, don’t be rude. He told me his name, I just use it.”

 

Steve sits next to him on the grass, pulling him up by his arm and nearly squishing the goat in the process. His grin is a mile wide. What a sap.

 

“God, you’re adorable.”

 

Bucky rolls his eyes but secretly preens. “Why’d you run off Jelly Bean? Big meanie.”

 

“Can’t help it. Been waiting years for this. I’m not gonna waste it.”

 

“I like your new beard,” Bucky says, changing the subject. “Suits you. Makes you look like a wild mountain man.” Like Steve could rough him up a little. Maybe throw him around. He shivers at the thought.

 

Steve reaches out and fingers Bucky’s own beard, now grown out as much as it ever will - he’s been back on the farm since the night after their first date, with no access to anything other than basic soap and water. He, unlike Steve, probably _smells_ like a mountain man.

 

Bucky grabs Steve’s hand, meaning to stop him from molesting his face, but gets hypnotized by the little blond hairs on his knuckles. He absentmindedly rubs his fingers across them, losing track of time in his fascination. Steve indulges him, radiating the same peace Bucky feels.

 

Bucky’s not sure how long he’s been staring, nor when he turned his gaze to Steve’s face, to those clear blue eyes that now stare back into his soul. But Jelly Bean, the little shit, refuses to be second best. He rams his forehead between them, breaking Bucky from his trance. Steve huffs a laugh and scratches the goat, taking his long-fingered, delicate hand away from Bucky, who makes a bereft noise.

 

“Okay, brat, c’m’ere,” Steve says, patting the ground in front of him and moving Jelly Bean to the side when he thinks the spot is for him.

 

“I feel like I’m being replaced by a goat,” Bucky complains, even as he slots himself in between Steve’s thighs, resting his back against his chest.

 

“There’s enough love for everybody here. Besides, no kid on this planet is going to steal your man. I don’t even want any.”

 

“Goats or children?”

 

“I feel like there’s no right answer here.”

 

“... Steve, you are so weird.”

 

Steve sighs as though put out. “And no one but you will ever know the half of it.”

 

“I’m good with that. If you have to run around playing Captain America 2.0, at least I can have one thing to myself.”

 

“Hey, you know I don’t do this out of obligation. I have to do what’s right, Buck, or who else is going to?” He kisses Bucky’s temple in apology.

 

“I know,” Bucky placates. “You’ve never changed, and I fell in love with that man. The man you are and always have been. How could I not? God help me.”

 

“Well,” Steve murmurs in his ear, voice dropping to a register Bucky’s never heard before, making him tremble, “I can think of another part of me that’s all for you.”

 

Bucky’s mouth is suddenly dry. “Promise?” he whispers.

 

“Promise,” Steve confirms, grabbing Bucky’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Bucky knows that Steve’s blushing, but his hand is steady and his breathing even, and Bucky feels a surge of affection so strong it nearly knocks him over.

 

“Watch the sunset with me?” he asks.

 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Steve murmurs, and holds him as tight as he can.

  
  


 

 

 


End file.
